Forever
by DangerousDream
Summary: You leaned over and whispered "Forever" into my ear. Even though you were going to Boston, and you were going to be miles away from Texas, in more ways than one, you promised me forever. And I knew you meant it.


**I was listening to The One That Got Away by Katy Perry and suddenly, I had the urge to write this. I know I've neglected my other stories a little (also see: **_**a lot**_**) but I hope you enjoy this anyway :) It just explores the idea of Claire going to Boston a little more, and how things could have been different... BTW, I didn't realise until two thirds in that it may be a little confusing, it's written from Shane's POV and the "you" is Claire.**

You leaned over and whispered "Forever" into my ear. You said it so smoothly, so simplistically beautiful that believing you was a no brainer. It was clear you meant it and I smiled down at you as you nuzzled your head into my shirt when you hugged me tightly, never wanting to let me go. I smiled in that moment. I was young, and naïve. Even though you were going to Boston, and you were going to be miles away from Texas, in more ways than one, you promised me forever. And I knew you meant it.

So I ordered pizza, and put on a movie that neither of us really cared about, as if it was any other ordinary night. I can't remember if you ended up on top of me, or if I was on top of you. It was a night of sex, skin, love and passion.

You left the next morning, as you promised. Once you were gone, I wandered around aimlessly, but I didn't doubt you. You promised forever, and you _always_ keep your promises. I buried myself in work, as I'm sure you did.

We skyped every night. You cried as we hung up, and our calls always over ran. Our phone bills were through the roof, and 5 times, you nearly hopped on the next plane home. There was nothing I wanted more than to have you in my arms once again, to be able to touch you and kiss you like we used to. But, still, I stopped you coming home. This was a learning experience for you, and I know you wanted it more than anything. You'd regret backing out. I know you. Besides, we didn't have anything to worry about. Yes, we were humans and time was never going to be on our side, but you promised forever, and you always keep your promises.

So life went on. Me, in Morganville, working 9-5 shifts at a repair shop. You, in Boston, working endlessly for your grades and researching for your next science paper. I offered to come out there and live with you, but you said I should stay in Morganville, it was my home. Besides, you were so busy that it might not make a difference. That's why your calls got gradually shorter and less often, and that was why you didn't cry anymore, and you seemed distracted. You were just busy at work and school. That's what I repeated to myself at least a hundred times a day. But even so, I knew things were different. As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks became months that quickly became a year apart, time took it all.

Sometimes it felt as though we were a world apart rather than just a few hundred miles.

I should have seen it coming. It was a crisp day in October that you called me. I felt a dropping sensation in my stomach and a crack in my chest, as the realization of what this meant dawned on me. You never called me anymore, I always called you (half the time, you were too busy with homework to pick up). I tried to numb the overwhelming feeling of deflatedness by convincing myself that everything between us was okay, but sure enough, my suspicions were right.

"I just can't do this anymore, I'm sorry, Shane. I still love you, but I'm not _in _love with you," came your voice from down the phone. It usually gave me hope and sweet reverie, but now, it sounded like a thousand needles being pushed into my heart.

"I see. Have a nice life Claire," I told you, my voice blank and emotionless before hanging up. I didn't ask why, I didn't have to. We'd both grown up, and apart.

You promised forever, but this time, you couldn't keep her promise.

Something in the back of my head wanted to call you back and say something. I wanted to beg you to give it another chance. I wanted to sob and tell you that we could fix this, that I'd give anything. I wanted to tear my heart out of my chest just to make the pain stop.

But I didn't. I let you go. I convinced myself that this was right for both of us. I told myself that I didn't need you; you'd come running back when she realised what she'd given up, anyway.

I called in sick the next day, telling John that I had the flu, or something equally pathetic. I wanted to tell someone, anyone, about my pain. My heart was ripped to sheds and lying on the floor in pieces, although I acted like it wasn't. I spent the day watching tacky TV shows and cheap and nasty films to get me through. For a while, it worked. It was only when the sun set and night fell that I realised how truly alone I was in this world. I double locked the front door, and checked the windows only about a thousand times before heading to bed. I peered out of the window to make sure that no demons were outside, just waiting to drain my blood. Not that they could possibly hurt me anymore than you, anyway.

That's when a single thought hit me: this was no different to yesterday. I'd spent yesterday exactly the same way... Alone. As well as the day before that. In fact, I'd spent all year alone. Truth be told, I'd been alone longer than I could truly process.

With that, came a sense of self-worth. I could exist without you. I could have a life without you, Claire. I'd got through the past year alive and happy, after all. Well, just alive.

I got up the next morning as if nothing had happened. I showered and went to work, telling John that I felt entirely better, and that I had miraculously recovered from my _illness_. I came home and ordered chinese (not pizza, pizza was _our_ thing) and drained my anger into a grueling workout. By the end of the day, I still missed you, but I was too exhausted to care.

I repeated the routine, filling my days with meaningless activities. For a few months, it worked. I'd work long and hard all week, visit Eve and Michael on Saturdays, and spend Sundays volunteering in the bloodmobile (at first, I hated the idea but apparently, I put people at ease). I was... Content with life. Sure, it wasn't the same anymore, but I was doing okay. I would be okay. I just had to wait for the call from you telling me that you were sorry, and that you were coming home.

It never came.

The final straw was one night in April. It was your 20th birthday, and you'd been on my mind all day. I came in from work, watched another repeat of Dr Phil and kept glancing at my laptop. A few simple clicks, and I would be able to see you again. I could just go on your Facebook page and see how you were, if you were missing me.

My thoughts raced as I opened up the page. I bit my nails and thought about what I might see: sad photos about lost love, statuses explaining how lonely you were. I'd like them all, then send you a message telling you to come home. It'd been 182 days since we broke up, but you'd probably still jump at the chance to see me again, and get back what we'd lost.

That was not the case. Your page was filled with new memories you were making in Boston. Memories without me. People I didn't recognize had left you message after message wishing you a happy birthday. People had tagged you in photos from parties. I scrolled through the pictures you had taken. You looked so different, you'd gotten blonde highlights in your hair, and you started wearing make-up, but you were still as beautiful as I remembered. One picture in particular stopped me in my tracks. It was you, with your arms around some footballer guy. He was tall and muscular with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. His name was Dylan, and he seemed like a complete player. Not your type at all. You two were happy.

I clicked off of the picture quickly. My arrow hovered over the message button, contemplating whether or not I should message you. Eventually I took a deep breath and typed a quick message wishing you a happy birthday and letting you know that I missed you. You read it straight away and a notification came up on my screen letting me know that you were typing. I gasped and closed my eyes, waiting for your reply.

It never came.

That night was a hard reminder that you were not mine anymore. You didn't love me anymore. You had moved on and I should too. I went straight to nearest bar and found myself a girl. Her name was Jamie, and she was blonde, with big boobs and dumb and boring. The polar opposite of you. For a night, she cleared my brain of all things Claire, but only for a night, then you took your place again.

Life became a rhythm, lather, rinse, repeat. The days blurred into one long, grey string empty memories. Eventually, I forgot about you. It started out with little things. I couldn't remember that song you always sang under your breath while waiting for the toast to pop up or that film that you were dying to see. Then it became bigger. Did you major in chemistry, or physics? Was your birthday the 2nd, or the 3rd? What colour were your eyes?

Eventually, I met a girl called Kate. She was slightly overweight, with brown hair and pimpled skin. She worked in an office, doing something that I never care to remember. We had a dog called Marley, and we eventually bought a house together. Kate was lovely. She was sweet hearted and would always try and do the right thing. I loved her.

She just wasn't _you. _She couldn't fill that hole in my heart that ached for one thing only.

Occasionally, I'd see you on the news. You'd done big things in the science community and even after 5, 10, 15 years, my heart swelled with pride when I heard about what you'd done. I always knew you were destined for amazing things. You still lived in Boston of course, giving all your time to solving problems with people's blood. I wondered if that was because of what you'd experience in Morganville, or if it was just a job for you.

The day I saw you again, was a sombre day, for more reasons than one.

It was a funeral. Not yours. Eve's. Michael had finally done what everyone said he would, and snapped. He got too thirsty one night and drained her. He'd left town and no one had seen him since. My heart broke for Eve, the girl who had trusted too much. Then my heart broke for me, who had trusted your words when you said forever. In the end, it's always the one who we love most who hurt us reprehensibly, isn't it?

When I saw that familiar flicker of brown hair sitting on the back row of the church, I brushed it off. You were far away in Boston, your Morganville days were over. It had been a decade and half (or more) since the time where you and Eve would sit in your room gossiping about Michael and I and watching click flicks, or discussing which outfit to wear to some party you were both _desperate _to go to. Gone were the days of you and Eve being friends.

I saw it again later in the evening. I'd been getting a drink for myself when you pulled up a stool next to me and ordered a double of bourbon. The bartender passed my drink and I paid for it, then glanced over at Kate. She was busy talking to some of Eve's colleagues. She wouldn't notice if I disappeared to talk to you.

"I'd never have considered you to be a bourbon kind of girl, myself," I told you, "Especially since the last time I saw you, you hated it."

You span to face me quickly, your hair whipping around her face as you looked at me. You squinted at me for a few seconds until recognition set in and a range of expressions danced across your face: first shock, then confusion before finally settling into a look of regret before you regained composure and made your face blank again.

"I've changed a lot since you last saw me, I can imagine," you said and I nodded, holding out an arm to you. I'd waited years for this moment. Funeral or not, I would _not _let you just leave again.

"Care to walk?" I asked. You looked me up and down before sighing and taking my arm. I led you outside, into the fields behind the pub. The sun was setting, so we didn't have long before we'd both go have to go inside (Morganville never changed, after all) but I knew I'd make it count.

At first, we small-talked. Then we spoke about how tragic and premature Eve's death had been, and laughed while reminiscing our memories over her. Eventually, our laughter died down and the conversation slipped into risky territories.

"So, how's your husband?" I asked, hoping you'd say he didn't exist no such luck.

"Good," you told me, "How's your girlfriend?" I wanted to ask how you knew, hoping that you had been looking out for me, until I realised that Kate would have introduced herself.

"Good," I told you and we both exhaled simultaneously. Suddenly, the conversation became awkward.

"So, have you got any kids?" Again, I was hoping they didn't exist.

"Twin boys, Lucas and Josh. They're five," You told me. I nodded, and smiled at her, trying to cover the fact that my heart was splitting in two, even after all these years. You held up a picture of two little boys, smiling widely and hugging each other, before turning back to me, "Have you got any kids, Shane?"

"No, Kate can't have children," I saw your face fall, and the conversation almost become awkward, "We have a dog, though. He's called Marley,"

"A labrador? Like the film?" You asked, looked genuinely amused.

"Yes, like Marley and Me," You tilted her head back and laughed contiguously, and I laughed with you.

"Let me guess," you started, "Kate picked the name,"

I hesitated, but it was long enough for you to pick up on. You laughed and told me between laughs, "You? A chick flick? Really?"

I held my hands up, chuckling "You got me,"

"If I had time for a dog, I'd get a labrador. I love Labradors so much. Always wanted one,"

"I know," I told you, my mind flicking back to the days where we were together and you constantly begged me for a dog. If we'd have got one, would things be different? "I remember,"

You sighed and kicked the dirt, "It seems so long ago now, doesn't it?"

I shook my head, "Still feels like yesterday,"

"We were so young, Shane. It was never going to work out,"

"It could have," I sat down on a step and stared off into the orange horizon.

You sighed in agreement and sat next to me, "It could have. But it didn't. We have to let it be now. We can still be friends?"

Some time, and a lot of conversation later, it was like you had never left. The conversation came naturally and it was almost like we were teenagers again, and we were about to go home to the Glass House and curl up together. It didn't feel as though we were going to be in different sides of the country by tonight.

"Remember when she slapped Amelie?" I told you and you threw your head back in hysterical laughter. I joined you, surprised by how much I still wanted you, even after all these years.

"Oh my god, yes," you laughed, "She was crazy back then, wasn't she?"

"Not crazy," I argued, "Just deeply in love,"

You sighed and checked your phone, before standing up and stretching out your legs "It's getting late. You should get back before Kate notices you're gone,"

I bowed my head. You were right. My loving wife was probably looking for me everywhere, whilst I was catching up with my ex (who I still loved). I sighed, "And you?"

"My plane leaves at 3am, I'll be leaving for the airport soon," You seemed genuinely sad about it. I took my chance. I leaned in and placed my lips onto yours. You were shocked for a second, before you relaxed into it and kissed me how you used to. I almost laughed, you really hadn't changed a bit. When we broke away, you took a shallow breath in before shooting me a sad smile. I returned it with a crooked one.

She shook your head, "I have to go," You turned and started to bolt away. I grabbed your hand, and pulled you towards me.

"Then stay," I told you, "Don't go to Boston. Stay here with me in Morganville, you can bring the twins, it'll be great,"

"What about Kate?"

"I'll explain to her. She'll understand,"

For a second, you considered it. My heart stopped. You were almost going to say yes, then you shook your head again, "No. I have Declan, and you have Kate. And have kids now, I have to think of them. I can't just leave my job, and make the boys leave school. I'm sorry, Shane, tonight was lovely, but it won't work. You and I won't work,"

I let go of your hand and you started walked away, "But you promised forever. You said you always keep your promises,"

You stopped and hesitated for a minute, before turning back to me, "This is our forever, now, Shane,"


End file.
